


Nostalgia is a Funny Thing

by dyingpoet



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Flashbacks, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Nostalgia, let jack feel his sadness 2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Race has been spending a lot of time over in Brooklyn and Jack just misses his brother





	Nostalgia is a Funny Thing

**Author's Note:**

> im literally so sad and nostalgic atm bc my childhood is ending forever!!! but its fine!!!

Jack practically collapsed onto his bunk as soon as he came into lodging that night. He was later than normal, last week he’d gotten a cold and he hadn’t fully bounced back yet. By noon he felt like his voice was going out from the soreness, and he didn’t even look sick enough to get any sympathy. 

“Hiya Jack.”

A weight settled at the foot of the bed and Jack propped himself on his elbows to see Crutchie looking about as tired as he felt. “Hey, bad sellin’ day for you too?”

Crutchie nodded and pulled his bad leg up on the bed and started rubbing at the knee. “Yeah, my leg ain’t been too good lately, season changing and all.”

A pang went through Jack and he sat up properly, he never really got over seeing Crutchie hurt and all. He’d get better, Crutch wouldn’t. “Need any help with it?”

Crutchie shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine, just gonna turn in early.”

“You up on the roof tonight?”

“Don’t think so,” Crutchie said, grimacing as he moved his hand to his thigh, “weather’s gettin’ too cold for me. Stayin’ in.”

Jack nodded and stood up, ruffling Crutchie’s hair as he did. “Sleep good, kid.”

“You too,” Crutchie said, “and think about comin’ back to the bunk room for the season too, s’not good for ya, the cold air.”

Jack nodded and started for the window before stopping and turning back. “Hey, you seen Race today?”

“No, I think he’s stayin’ in Brooklyn, he said somethin’ about Spot earlier.”

Jack sighed but he tried not to let any disappointment show on his face, Crutchie didn’t need to be worrying about him. “Okay, see ya in the morning.”

“See ya.”

That was another thing, Jack figured as he made his way up the ladder to the roof, Race hadn’t been around much lately. Jack wasn’t dumb, he knew that he and Spot had something different than he and Jack had, and he didn’t care much about that. Hell, he’d be a damn hypocrite considering what he had with Davey.

But he missed Race. He missed his  _ brother _ . 

“Ain’t no use cryin’ over it,” he mused, leaning against the wall of the rooftop and looking out over the city. He could see the bridge from here. “Was bound to happen eventually.”

Jack watched his breath freeze in front of him for a minute or too, it really was getting cold. And a part of him had always known eventually the boys were going to go off and get jobs and find families and all that. He just missed the old days when that was so far off Jack could convince himself it wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t do that anymore. 

After a while he turned away from the city and walked over to his paints and ripped up old notebooks. Medda gave him some water colors he wanted to try out, and the old can he used for paint water had enough in it for something small. 

Painting had always been what he had to get away from it. All of them had something: cards, books, walking around the city, but painting had always been Jack’s thing.

Mixing the paint he tried to zone out and remember some of the good old days. The nostalgia was there anyway so he might as well embrace it.

* * *

_ “Jack quit it!” _

_ Race was laughing as Jack pulled him into a messy headlock on his bunk, he wasn’t strong enough to take the older boy yet but he was getting there. _

_ “How else you gonna learn how to fight, huh?” Jack teased, rubbing his knuckles into Race’s curls. _

_ “The Delancey’s,” Race growled, pulling at Jack’s hands and failing to get out of the hold. “Lemme go!” _

_ Jack held him for a bit longer before Race pulled out his signature move and just went completely limp. Laughing, Jack let him go and pushed lightly at his chest so the younger fell back against the bed, panting. _

_ “One day I’m gonna win against ya, Jackie.” _

_ Jack snorted and stood up. “We’ll see, kiddo.” _

* * *

Jack was almost done with the general sketch, trying his best not to shade too much or else it would show through the paint. It was a figure but Jack was too focused in to care who it would turn out to be. 

He started to ration out his dry colors onto the bit of scrap he used as a palate and tried to blend a skin tone, that was one of the hardest parts. It took him almost ten minutes before he could put brush to paper. 

* * *

_ Race yelped as Jack yanked him back by his collar, keeping him from dashing in front of a fast moving carriage.  _

_ Grinning sheepishly, he looked back at Jack. “Sorry, ‘m just excited.” _

_ “I know ya are buddy,” Jack said, guiding him further onto the side walk and starting to walk again. “Brooklyn is gonna be a good place for ya. Sheepshead has a damn good crowd, you’se lucky we figured somethin’ out with the kids over there.” _

_ Race nodded, he was practically skipping once he caught sight of the bridge and Jack couldn’t help but smile a little.  _

_ Once they got to the edge of the bridge Jack pulled Race back and put two hands on his shoulders. “Okay, you can take it from here, yeah?” _

_ Race nodded, curls bouncing. “Yep, I know the way to the track.” _

_ Jack pushed his shoulder lightly and nodded to the bridge. “Go off then, and no betting.” _

_ “Got it!” Race called over his shoulder. Neither him or Jack believed that though. _

* * *

Jack was gnawing at his lip so hard it was probably going to bust open. He was close to being done with the hair and painting curls was always hard. 

He wanted to go with earth tones, he was saving the more vibrant colors for Crutchie’s birthday present. He was going to try and paint the sunrise how it looked from the rooftop. It was going to be hard but he knew Crutchie would love it. Two weeks was more than enough time to get some good practice with the paints, too. 

Now that was a good kid, Crutchie. Jack would never leave that one, and he’d never told anybody but as soon as he got his own place he was taking Crutchie off the streets and taking him with him. That kid was going to have a damn good life if he had any say in it. 

* * *

_ “Where you runnin’ off too this late?” Jack asked, frowning as Race started stuffing clothes and money into his bag.  _

_ Race swung his bad onto his shoulder and grinned at Jack. “Poker game in Brooklyn. Spot Conlon just took over and I’m trying to get in good with him so I can keep my spot at Sheepshead.” _

_ Jack nodded approvingly. “Smart move, just be back in time to get your papes, okay?” _

_ Race agreed and was out the door as quick as he’d come in. _

_ There was a nudge at his shoulder and he turned around to see Albert leaning against the bedpost. He nodded at the door Race left through. “He okay?” _

_ “Yeah he’s great,” Jack said, stretching out his arms until his shoulder popped. “I love that kid, Al.” _

_ Albert smiled and climbed up into his own bunk. “Yeah, me too Jackie.” _

* * *

It was done. Jack moved back a little and cracked his neck, the candle he’s been using for light was getting low anyway, he’d made good time. 

The paper needed to dry, but he leaned forward to get a good look at the finished product. He laughed out loud when he did.

It was Race, right down to the curls and the cocky slouch he always had. He’d been painting a spitting image of the kid the whole damn time without even realizing it. Made sense actually.

“Somethin’ funny up here, cowboy?”

Jack turned quickly to see Race come up the ladder. He looked tired but had a lazy smile on his face as he made his way over to Jack, who stayed sitting.

“Paintin’? Can I see it?” Race asked, sitting down clumsily next to Jack. He waited for Jack to nod before he leaned forward and looked at the page. “Oh wow, that’s me isn’t it?”

Jack nodded and bumped Race’s shoulder lightly. “Yeah, didn’t even know it was you ‘til I was done.”

“Yeah?”

Jack hummed and looked down at the ground. It felt like there was a weight on his chest and he knew he needed to say something. “Yeah, was thinkin’ ‘bout ya while I was paintin’.”

Race tilted his head and looked at Jack. “Really? Why?”

“I miss ya, kid.”

“Miss me?” Race said incredulously, “I sleep downstairs and ya see me everyday.”

Jack shook his head and looked over at his little brother. “Yeah, but it ain’t the same as it used to be, y’know? You’se movin’ on, spendin’ more time in Brooklyn, and I ain’t mad about it or nothin’, I just miss the old days.”

Race fell silent and Jack focused his eyes on the flickering candle in front of the. He wanted to feel better after finally saying that but he didn’t. 

“Jack I’m sorry.”

Jack looked at Race to see him staring down at his lap, playing with his hands.

“I didn’t mean to be gone so much.”

“Don’t feel bad, kiddo,” Jack said, moving to wrap an arm around Race’s shoulders. “Everybody’s gotta move on sometime, you’se just startin’ to is all.”

Race shook his head though, and when he spoke his voice was quiet. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna leave you guys, not yet anyway. I’ve just been all caught up with Brooklyn and-and with Spot and I forget sometimes.”

Mentioning Spot had been hard for Race and Jack knew that, so he pulled Race closer so he was pressed up against the older’s side. “S’okay Race, I’se happy for ya. I just wasn’t feelin’ too great tonight s’all, you don’t gotta be sorry for nothin’.”

Race just nodded, but Jack could feel something that wasn’t quite guilt coming off of him. He probably felt just like Jack, he was only a year younger than him after all. Stuff probably felt like it was coming to an end for him too.

“Are we gonna see each other still after this all ends, Jack?”

The question was so innocent it almost broke Jack’s heart, and he pressed a kiss to the top of Race’s head like he was seven again. “Course we will kid, we’se family. I ain’t ever leavin’ ya for good.”

“Not even for Santa Fe?” Race asked, smiling sadly as he turned to look at Jack. 

“Not even for the moon, kid.”

Race laughed a little at that and curled more or less into Jack’s side. They were both tired and it was looking like they’d be staying up here together for the night.

Jack leaned forward to blow out the candle and make sure his painting was held down good enough to dry without blowing away in the wind. Once he got that he dragged his old tattered blanket and laid down, Race falling with him and grabbing a fistful of the blanket when Jack pulled it over them.

They both moved around a little bit to get comfortable but ended up more or less lying against each other to keep the warmth. Jack felt Race’s breathing even out long before he knew he’d fall asleep, and absentmindedly he started to remember again, brushing his fingers through Race’s hair as he did. 

“Jack?”

Jack’s breath hitched a little in surprise that Race was still awake, but he cleared his throat anyway. “Yeah?”

“Can I keep that paintin’ you did?” Race asked, sleep coating every word.

“Course you can.”

Race nodded sleepily at that and started drifting back to sleep. 

Jack stayed awake for a little while longer, but started falling asleep too not long after that. All he thought before he did was that he would miss this. But he wasn’t sad about it, it was a happy sort of missing. 

**Author's Note:**

> we love Projecting our emotions onto fictional characters in this house ;^)
> 
> kudos/comments are lovely as always!!! you can also follow me on tumblr @dying-poet too!!! love yall!!!


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